Room For The Night
by CharlieWritesDrabbles
Summary: Currently a drabble, may become more. What happens when the (humanized) survivors of the apocalyptic world (or, Candy Kingdom) stumble upon a small pocket of life? Bubbline. Rated T for future themes.


Two years was all it had taken for the world to go to hell in a hand basket. Plagues, famines, nuclear warfare; those with money survived at first, but the real winners were the communities. Those who toughed out the first few months of terror in old war shelters and mine shafts. For a year now, the Candy Kingdom survivors had been bouncing from town to town, scavenging and scraping what they could. Their numbers had dwindled rapidly - from people passing, to those leaving on promises of better lands. Everyone felt the years, heavy in their hearts and heavier on their shoulders.

Sand; miles of it, and nothing else. That's all they had been able to see for the past week, and Marceline was getting tired of it. Was tired of it. She could barely remember what grass looked like, or just a gravel sidewalk. It felt like the sun had set a thousand times since she had last seen a burnt out Starbucks sign. The once bright and proud neon beacons of overpriced coffee and hipsters writing best sellers were left dull and despondent, hanging limply from dirty, once-white buildings. It was a miracle to find anything but scavenging animals in there, but every so often there would be a bag of untouched beans, or some Pop Chips in a high-up box.

"Marcy, hey, wake up," Bubblegum's voice came through a fog of deserted roads, empty garage pumps and ragged feral cats, "We're here, get up, you lazy frog." Prodding fingers joined the puzzling sensations the vampire was experiencing; her neck hurt, her arms ached, her back was tender, and her legs felt pained, "Em, you fell asleep about an hour ago, come on, we've gotta get across the street."

Cracking an eye open against the glaring sun, Marceline surveyed the surroundings, "Mn? Bonnie? Where are we?" A dilapidated Hilton lay before the gang, who were all pressed against the doors of the beat up pick up, ready to make a run for it. Finn's grimace set the lines in his face even deeper, LSP was practically quivering, and Peppermint's grubby suit seemed to shine anew with the prospect of a proper bed. And, if they were lucky, working water.

Whispers rippled through them all, muscles strained with readiness, now their self-appointed leader was awake, they could move. A count of three that started in the back of their minds, and all of them were running for the door, carrying their meager possessions. Barging in, they found it surprisingly full. Some children ran across the foyer, a portly looking man sat behind the counter with a magazine in hand, people were dotted here and there; laughing, joking, as if the world were not falling apart right outside.

All noise ceased the moment the ragtag bunch were spotted, every head turned to them. These people were dressed in finery compared to the rags that had clothed Marceline and company for the past year. "Shit," Peppermint whispered, "maybe we oughta-"

"Welcome, friends," the man at the counter stood, spreading his arms open, "My name is Batach, and this is my home." Stepping around his perch, Batach approached, smiling broadly. It immediately put Bubblegum on edge, but she wouldn't voice it right now, "Would you need a bed for the night? The week? The month? We have plenty of room."

The murmuring noises of the other residents to the hotel had begun to filter back in as the posse were addressed, it filled Finn and Marceline with ease, to be enveloped in the noise of others. Like it had been before things changed. Stepping forward, Marceline reached out to take the elder man's hand, "Hey, I'm Marcy, and these are my friends. We're gonna need two rooms. Double beds, please, if you have them," Despite feeling put out at addressing someone like it was a normal, pre-terror day, she was determined not to show it, "For the night, probably."

After what seemed too long and no time at all, Bonnie and Marcy were alone; the door was locked behind them, and an en suite bathroom was right in front of them. The sounds of activity were around them, hovering, almost threatening to penetrate their bubble but never quite coming close enough. Without a second thought, the dark haired woman lifted her companion by the waist, and placed her right in to the tub.


End file.
